clientele of the Cafe de l'Univers was doing the same; Mr. Phinuit's
party was the focal point of between twenty and thirty pair of staring
eyes, and was enduring this with much equanimity.

Mr. Phinuit was conferring earnestly over the menu with madame la
proprietaire. The others were ordering aperitifs of a waiter. Through
the clatter of tongues that filled the cafe one caught the phrase
"veeskysoda" uttered by the monsieur in tweeds. Then the tall man
consulted the beautiful lady as to her preference, and Duchemin caught
the words "madame la comtesse" spoken in the rasping nasal drawl of an
American.

Evidently a person of rich humour, the speaker: "madame la comtesse"
was abruptly convulsed with laughter; the chubby gentleman roared; Mr.
Phinuit looked up from the carte with an enquiring, receptive smile;
the waiter grinned broadly. But the cause of all this merriment wore
only an expression of slightly pained bewilderment on his death-mask of
a face.

At that moment arrived the caleche which Duchemin had commanded to
drive him to the chateau; and with a ride of two miles before him and
rain imminent, he had no more time to waste.

VI

VISITATION

Dinner was served in a vast and sombre hall whose darkly panelled walls
and high-beamed ceiling bred a multitude of shadows that danced about
the table a weird, spasmodic saraband, without meaning or end,
restlessly advancing and retreating as the candles flickered, failed
and flared in the gusty draughts.

There was (Duchemin learned) no other means of illumination but by
candle-light in the entire chateau. The time-old structure had been
thoroughly renovated and modernised in most respects, it was furnished
with taste and reverence (one could guess whose the taste and purse)
but Madame de Sevenie remained its undisputed chatelaine, a belated
spirit of the ancien regime, stubbornly set against the conveniences of
this degenerate age. Electric lighting she would never countenance. The
telephone she esteemed a convenience for tradespeople and vulgarians in
general, beneath the dignity of leisured quality. The motor car she
disapproved yet tolerated because, for all her years, she was of a
brisk and active turn and liked to get about, whereas since the War
good horseflesh was difficult to find in France and men to care for it
more scarce still.

So much, and more besides, she communicated to Duchemin at intervals
during the meal, comporting herself towar